


#FAKE

by Uglysweater



Series: Idk some friday night lights pun [2]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:37:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uglysweater/pseuds/Uglysweater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squad discusses the requirements for a fake relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#FAKE

Pizza is probably the most important invention or innovation in the history of humanity. Damen doesn't just think that from the perspective of a constantly hungry high school jock. It's actually the best. Meat, cheese, and bread. A man could survive on this. 

After a long practice it's exactly what Damen needs. The local pizza place near the high school is nearly as perfect as pizza itself. Cheap, greasy, and uncomfortably hot. It's difficult to find pizza that's friendly on the teen-without-a-job budget without having an incredibly rubbery and terrible crust. But the place Damen's teammate, Jord, works a couple nights a week is perfect. 

Damen's phone buzzes as Jord slides into the sticky plastic seat across from him. He types a quick response and grabs one of the paper plates Jord sat down. 

"Hey man," he mumbles around a mouthful of meat and cheese and dough perfection. They knock knuckles together in greeting. Damen's phone buzzes again. He considers ignoring it but it buzzes again, signaling a second message. 

He picks it up and responds. When he glances back up Jord has an eyebrow ticked up at him. The phone buzzes on the table again. Jord grins. 

"Aren't you going to get that?" He asks Damen. Damen rolls his eyes, but picks up his phone again. "Who is it? That cheerleader that was giving you eyes last week?" 

"Giving eyes? What are you, 40? No it, uh, it's Laurent." 

Jord's grin widens, "Ah, right I forgot about that. You guys are an item now." 

"No we're not." His phone buzzes again. 

"Sure. Okay." 

Damen rips at his crust, tearing them into bite sized pieces and tossing them in his mouth, "We told you guys. It's just appearances. It's all fake." 

"Is it really fake if everyone knows it's fake and you keep holding hands anyway?" 

"Not everyone knows it's fake!" Damen whispers. "We need his uncle to think it's real." 

The phone buzzes again on the table. They both glance at it. Damen flips it over, presses two buttons and flips it back down. 

"His uncle isn't here now. He's not here now to see you sexting from a pizza shop."

"We're not," Damen starts but when the phone buzzes from the table they both lunge for it. Jord reaches it first. 

"What's your passcode. Wait no. I can guess." He fiddles with it for a second then laughs triumphantly, "Oh man, your jersey number twice? That's it. Wow. Wait what the fuck is this. Is this a horse?" 

"It's, uh, it's a borzoi."

"I ask again, is that a horse?" 

"It's a dog." Damen lunges to grab the phone but Jord leans back out of reach. 

"Are you sending him cat back? Woah what? Why?" 

Damen sighs, "long story." 

Jord shrugs, "I've got an hour till my shift starts. Spill." 

"Oh my god. It's not that long. I was just joking that he's basically a cat," Jord's eyebrow ticks back up, "Shut up. No, it makes sense. Lays in the sun. Gets angry when he isn't getting enough attention. Pretty but with claws." 

"Pretty?" 

"Like, objectively. Shut up. But he refuses to accept it. And now he won't stop sending me pictures of this weird dog. He says it's his 'true form'." 

Damen laughs. Jord doesn't. Damen stops. 

"Don't" Damen cautions.

"That is literally so cute I want to vomit." A breadstick flies over from the counter and hits Jord in the back of the head. Jord grabs it and throws it back where it came from, but their friend Lazar ducks in time. He grabs his hero and joins Damen and Jord. 

"I can't believe you're about to eat a sandwich right now. This is the best pizza I've ever had. You're disrespecting Jord's hard work by eating that hero." 

"Yeah what the hell, man." 

"Don't let him distract you from the conversation at hand," Lazar tells Jord. Then he turns to Damen, props his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his hand, "So. You're dating fearless leader." 

"Number one, I still don't get why you call him fearless leader. Jord is captain, plus Laurent looks like a strong wind could knock him over. Number two, not dating." Damen tells him. His phone buzzes again from Jord's hand. 

"Oh, right. Sorry. 'Fake' dating fearless leader." Finger quotes. Damen's going to kill him. He might kill Laurent just for the hell of it. Jord and Lazar lean in together and take a selfie, presumably to send to Damen's fake boyfriend. 

"This is horrible. This is the worst thing that's ever happened to anyone" He says to his pizza. 

"What is?" Lazar mumbles around a mouthful of salami, "Liking a boy?" 

"No," Jord interrupts, "its having feelings for a boy that the boy thinks are fake." 

"Oh my god. I do not have feelings for Laurent!" 

They both stop eating and look heavily at Damen. 

"Okay," Damen relents, "like. One feeling. Not feelings. Just one feeling. And it's mostly tinged with bitterness and dislike." 

Lazar grins and Jord starts chanting, "feelings. Feelings. FEELINGS," 

Thank god the restaurant is empty, because Damen is going to kick their asses and would rather not have witnesses. 

"Hey, why doesn't he ever come hang out with us post practice?" Jord asks, once a he's finished chanting. 

"Don't ask me I don't run his life." Damen misses the good old days when he was captain of his team back home and no one questioned who he did or did not date.

Lazar sips from his soda, loudly, "Yeah it's weird. He never really goes to team events. Not even parties." 

"Maybe he's just nervous. Maybe he's worried you guys won't like him off the field. Because you guys are all Bro-y. And he's, well, not."

“Shit really?

“I think part of it is you guys all know and played with his brother. I think he worries about you guys just thinking of him as Auguste’s Brother. And getting disappointed when he’s not like him.”

Lazar and Jord look at him, processing. For longer than probably necessary. Seriously, Damen is really starting to feel uncomfortable. He wished one of them would at least blink. Its creepy. 

“He’s going to kill you for telling us this, you know.” Jord finally says. 

“Whatever, you wanted to know.” Damen tries not to think too much on Laurent’s motivations, but he know’s his brother’s shadow still hangs over him. Everyone loved Auguste, Laurent loves Auguste, but he’s not Auguste. It’s a lot to try to live up to. 

“Oh. Well, I mean he can chill. If he wants.” Jord tells him, returning to his slice. 

Damen’s phone buzzes again and Lazar grabs it off the table. “Hold up. Wait is he saved in your phone as ‘sweetheart’? I’m dying. Jord, look at this tell me this isnt a fever dream.” 

Jord burst out laughing, breaking the tension from a moment ago. Although Damen wishes the tension could have been dissipated without bringing the ridicule back to himself. 

“I didn’t do that. He put his name in like that.” Damen lies. Damen put it in like that. Hoping that when Laurent saw it he would find it funny and laugh. He hopes his effectively hiding his blush, but just in case, Damen lays his head down onto the table. 

The phone buzzes again, this time repeatedly with a call. Lazar answers. “Helloooo. Hi Laurent, how are you? Oh no, Damen isn’t available right now he’s busy hiding himself in shame over a crush.” Damen shoots up and lunges for the phone. Lazar jumps out of the chair, backing away from the table, keeping the phone to his ear, “Study date? wow. No I’ll tell him. Hey Damen, your boyf says you’re late for your study date.”

“You guys are fucking idiots. Give that back.” Lazar hands the phone over, “Stop making things weird. We aren’t dating, we aren’t fucking, we aren’t doing any of the things you deviants are thinking about us doing.” Then, into the phone, “Sorry, on my way.”

Damen gathers his stuff and throws his backpack over his shoulder. The only condolence of this whole embarrassing mess is that the freshman cheerleader Jord has a thing for passes Damen as he leaves the shop. At least the teasing from Damen’s teammates will momentarily be shifted over to Jord. 

He hops in his car and peels out of the lot.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry sorry I dont know why this is in a completely different tense than the first part but w/e I'm a good person


End file.
